Alchemy

If all there is is flux and fire, then dire
though it may seem, the chance to perceive
so many worlds unfurl before one's very eyes
is like a Koothanic dance into which one is
lucky enough to be sucked, irretrievably -
and thus able to rise. This surprising flood,
this staggering eruption of forms, propels one
beyond the norm, dislodging whatever gets
stuck or suppressed, and lets one's spirit again
conjure and devise, because this endless
succession of dies, each cast as a deviation
from the preceding, releases a pent-up force
that begins the putrefaction of the petrified.